Aggg, Omorashi of France is sooooo hard to find, so I decided to write one. Enjoy! This is my first story, don't judge me please!

Warning: Omorashi, don't like, don't read. Also it contains slight FrUk to the end

For all that people that think France is just a pervert, he also has feelings


"Alright, the G8 meeting begins since now!" Germany said as he took his seat. All the most powerful countries in the world were sitted there: America, Japan, Germany, England, France, Canada, Russia and Italy.

France smiled while he listened to the discussion about trading between America and England. He wasn't sure about when the meeting would finish, because he had to do some work in the privacy of his own house. He had been thirsty that day and he couldn't avoid brought a bottle of wine for sharing. No nations wanted to drink, except Italy. In fact, France drank almost all the bottle. When England began to talk, the French could felt all that wine and the liquids he drank before arriving there sloshing in his bladder. He decided to ignore the feeling and tried to listen to England.

"...And that's why I think we should stop trading with poor countries. Hope you write this because it is important" England said, beginning to talk again with that thing about rich countries and poor ones. For France, now it was boring to talK about that again and again.

"Angleterre, we have been talking abouth rich and poor countries many times. Don't you think you should stop for once?"

"No frog, I will continue this until I don't have anything to say. Just shut up and listen to me" England shouted hitting the table with his hand, something that made France's bladder spasmed, forcing him to sit down. He bit his lip and shift in his seat, trying to not show his need to the rest of the G8; althought he didn't have to go as badly as once in an UE meeting. He didn't wet himself there, but he could still remember the shuffling, the small releases that damp his pants...

"But I can last until the end of the meeting right? Of course! Just not think about it" He though before writing some paragraphs in his sheet of paper. However, his bladder grew more and more uncomfortable every single minute. France noticed that he had to tap his foot, the same with his fingers trying to keep his bladder under control, but it didn't work. The blonde crossed his legs under the table with his hands in his lap adding slight pressure to his crotch. France glanced across the room, praying no one was seeing him. Fortunately, not. The rest of the nations were very busy to pay attention to him.

Another wave of desperation hit him, making France began to squirm in his seat again, he rested his hand in his cheek and the other one between his legs. "Let's talk about the GLOBAL WARMING" America in that moment shouted. France jumped a little, as a small spurt escaped from him, sparking panic in him.

England looked at France shifting in his seat and his teeth dig softly in his lip. He knew those signs, as he experienced something like that time ago. The bloody Frenchman needs to pee, and really badly! But he didn't say nothing, although his evil mind would tell to the G8 that France needed a toilet.

"Are you Ok frog?"

"Oui Angleterre, I'm always OK" France managed to say

"If you say so" England said and continue discussing with Japan about trading.

"Don't worry, You can make it, you can make it, YOU WILL MAKE IT!" France shouted in his mind, trying to not grab his crotch. Five minutes later, it was absolutely necessary to do that, but France refused to do it. His legs were trembling and his bladder felt like a bowling ball resting in his abdomen, turning the slight aching into a hard pain. Another two-second stream gushed out, slowly beginning to soak his pants. France whimpered as he fought back tears, praying he could reach the bathroom.

However, as the time passed, he doubted he could make it. Another stream leaked, making a puddle on the chair; France wanted to whimper but he didn't want to show his predicament. He bit his lower lip harder than ever as his cheeks became a soft shade of pink.

England saw many times to France who was having a more difficult time. He chuckled under his breath, seeing France desperate for the loo was something too funny.

Another spurt gushed out, making a small puddle below of the chair. France almost started to cry. It felt so good to release some urine. But his bladder decided to refill, so It hurted even more. He didn't listen to America and England arguing loudly, and wasn't interested on the meeting anymore.

"Amerika, Angliya, stop fighting" Russia shouted, grabbed his pipe and raised it, ready to hit the two nations, but accidentally hit France's stomach, causing him to lost control of his bladder. He whimpered because of the pain, but when he realized the warmth and moisture spreading across his lap, and a loud hissing sound his face grew redder and hotter as tears began to form in his blue eyes. France tried to stop the flow of urine but it was useless. His red pants took a darker color and were completely soaked from his lap to his ankles. The rest of the G8 nations saw him, some with pity, other with disgust on their faces.

"France, Im so sorry, I didn't mean to do that" Russia rubbed France's back.

When his bladder emptied, France smaked his head on the table as he sobbed, he had never felt so embarrased in all his entire existence as a country. Besides, he was an adult right know, he hadn't had an accident since he was a child. Was he aroused? Of course not!

France looked at everyone with sad and scared eyes as he ran out of the room, leaving a wet trail behind him. He leaned against a wall covering his red face as he sobbed in his hands. Tears were spilling down his cheeks and pulled his knees to his chest. Suddenly, he heard footsteps. France stop sobbing for a while, but he never show his face, hoping that the person who was walking to his direction left him soon.

It was England, who put a pair of pants besides the Frenchman. He frozed at this sight

"France, are you alright?"

"Non Angleterre, and don't say anything to me please! I don't want to see anybody" France wiped his tears with his sleeve, dampening it.

"Frog, I understand how you are feeling. But there is nothing to cry of, it is just an accident, and this could happen to America, Russia" England hugged the emotionally weakened French, making him to sob.

"I though you would laugh of me"

"No France, today no. Let's go to the bathroom" England stood up, pulling France by his wrist as the European nations headed to the bathroom. There, the englishman pulled his enemy to a stall and give him the pants that he brought. He was feeling a little bit better, but the humilliation wouldn't leave his soul

"If you don't want to return to the meeting, I understand you. I hope the same nations do the same. Is your stomach hurting?"

"Oui, but a little, and Angleterre?"

"Yes?"

"Merci for everything"